The Analyst
Copyright© 2025 by R. E. Bounds
Chapter 25: It’ll Become Natural
Becca and I found a quaint little mom-and-pop for dinner. After picking her up later in the afternoon, we explored the town and neighboring areas, taking in the charming contrast to our city life. Meanwhile, Veronica had headed to the airport to catch her flight home.
Over dinner, I filled Becca in on my work experience. She was intrigued by my apparent code name, “The—Analyst,” which I struggled to explain. Lisa, however, was more than happy to promote it earlier today, as it bolstered her role as my handler and supported her continued success with the new company.
In the end, it all worked out—I even received a promotion and the flexibility to work remotely. This was the best part, as it meant that Becca and I now had the freedom to choose where we wanted to live.
It was Becca’s afternoon that I was most interested in, though. “Did she really?” I asked, an amused smile playing on my lips.
“Yes!” Becca replied, her eyes twinkling. “I had to explain to her how to unlock them since they were double-locked, and then she handed them to me.”
“And when you got to the second floor?” I inquired. “Did she put them back on?”
“Yes, she double-locked them, too,” Becca said with a smile. “I think she really grasped how real they were once she handled them herself. It’s one thing to see them, another to touch them ... and quite another to be in them.”
Becca explained that they discovered the elevators were out of service, and with the short chain on her leg cuffs, she couldn’t manage the stairs. So, Veronica had to remove the cuffs and put them back on her once they were at the top.
Becca’s face lit up as she talked about the museum. She was thrilled with both the staff and the venue, noting their enthusiasm and openness to the art. It was a refreshing change from her previous experience at her former job. Margaret’s controlling influence and financial power had cast a shadow over the work environment.
“And the jewelry?” I asked, smiling.
Becca shot me a look of mock contempt. “Yes, we should have stopped sooner. But what were the chances of that happening a second time with Veronica?”
I chuckled, “Um, four times, actually. The first time we met them, then again, the morning of our departure, Eleanor’s office, and—”
Becca interrupted with a smile, “Fine. Okay. Mental note: Veronica is a ninja.”
We both laughed, and I asked again, “And?”
Becca shrugged playfully. “It was fine. Veronica explained the jewelry to everyone. They understood the purpose of the exhibit, and Veronica reiterating what you had told her made perfect sense.”
Seeing the smile on my face, Becca remarked, “So now it looks like I’m in high-security prisoner jewelry for the entire exhibit—eight hours a day, maybe even longer.”
I shrugged and replied, “And? You’ve been wearing them more frequently in public settings. It just means the museum staff will probably never see you without them that week.” I then smiled and added, “It’ll become natural—like how people get used to seeing something, and it stops feeling out of place.”
Becca smiled, fully understanding what I meant. We continued discussing our afternoon adventures, and by the time we left the restaurant, it was dark. Becca didn’t find herself back in restraints until we were under the covers in our hotel room.
The following morning, we had breakfast, checked out, and headed home with Becca in the passenger seat. Aside from Halloween and Thanksgiving, the time leading up to the exhibit’s opening day was filled with routine.
But that was a good thing—the predictability of each day was calming for Becca, especially now that she was entirely at ease with her feelings regarding the need to be bound.
Thanksgiving was truly special. We spent it with my parents, as we had since I first introduced Becca to them. They adored her, and it was a meaningful chance for her to feel part of a family, something that was especially important given the challenges she faced growing up.
As for Halloween, we usually spent it at Becca’s former employer, where the museum hosted an annual festival that she had organized for years. It was an event we always looked forward to. But, this year, the museum pulled the advertisement shortly after posting it.
Becca discovered through the grapevine that, with her departure and the subsequent staff changes, there was confusion about who was supposed to take over the event. As a result, the party fell through the cracks, even though the museum’s leadership assumed it would just happen on its own.
So, it was a surprise to learn that my company was hosting one final event before the acquisition. Lisa had given me the invite, and it was being held in Brooklyn at a place renowned for its extravagant and inclusive events.
I couldn’t resist stopping by her office on my way home. As I sat down, I asked her about the location, which sparked a conversation.
“Really? Isn’t this place known for being both inclusive and extravagant? By that, I mean—risqué?” I inquired.
“Yes,” Lisa replied, her smile combined with a hint of sadness. “I won’t have the same influence after the acquisition. Remember, I’ll be your handler. I won’t be able to persuade the higher-ups about Christmas parties or anything else.”
Sitting back in her chair, Lisa sighed, “So, we’re having a colorful Halloween party,” she said, her eyes welling up with tears.
“Okay. A Halloween party it is,” I said, my own tears lingering.
Lisa added with a playful grin, “Given the venue, Becca could go as a classic French maid or a sexy nurse. She can pull that off.”
I laughed and responded, “Hmm, that’s a great idea.”
Lisa noticed the wheels turning in my mind and smiled, “Do you still have that bag of restraints?”
I replied, “Um, yeah. It’s still in the closet,” trying to sound nonchalant.
Lisa’s eyes lit up. “Perfect! She could wear the suit she used for the transport along with the restraints and go as a sexy cuffed FBI agent.”
I smiled, watching Lisa’s demeanor shift to enthusiasm. But then her expression turned apologetic. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to bring that up. I wasn’t thinking. The last thing I want is for her to feel uncomfortable or reminded of that.”
I nodded. “It’s okay. She’s been getting help and is doing well. The events of those days don’t bother her anymore; she’s in a good place.” I smiled and added, “In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if she chose that exact costume.”
Lisa nodded in agreement, still looking apologetic. “Whatever she wants, really. She could show up in sexy lingerie and be bound, dolled up like Bettie Page. It’d be okay,” she said, then catching herself again. “I—I don’t know what’s wrong with me. She doesn’t have to get tied up. Really.”
I laughed and asked, “How about you?” Smiling, I added, “Since you have restraints on the brain—I can let you borrow handcuffs if you need them.”
Lisa blushed and playfully pointed toward the door. “Out of my office!” she said, though her smile betrayed her embarrassment. We shared a laugh as I walked out.
That evening, I told Becca about the party. Despite being buried in exhibit work, she was intrigued by the details.
“Isn’t that the place in Brooklyn that people talk about?” she asked, her curiosity stimulated and a hint of puzzlement in her voice.
“Yeah,” I replied. “I was a bit baffled, too. It’s not the type of place my company would host an event. But it sounds like Lisa is making every effort to impress for one last hurrah before the acquisition.”
“So, I’ve heard they’re pretty open-minded about things there,” she said with a smirk.
“Yeah, I heard that too. I had an interesting discussion about it with Lisa,” I replied.
“Really? What did she say?” she asked, clearly intrigued.
“Well, she thought you’d make a great French maid or a seductive nurse,” I said.
She raised an eyebrow, sensing there was more. “And?”
“She suggested you could wear the transport suit and jewelry and go as a ‘sexy cuffed FBI agent.’” I said while smiling.
“Did she really say that?” Becca asked, her eyes widening in surprise.
“Yep. She was a bit embarrassed afterward, thinking it might be too soon and that you were still working through some things,” I admitted.
“And you told her what?” Becca inquired.
“That you were okay with it and might even consider the idea,” I said with a grin.
“Anything else?” Becca asked, clearly eager for more details.
“Only that she was open to whatever. You could even go as the lingerie-clad and bound Bettie Page if you wanted,” I said, my interest showing.
Becca’s eyes widened with a smile. “And what are your thoughts?”
“Well, this is one of the rare times you’ll have a say, so it’s up to you,” I explained. “The company is wrapping up, and with many people moving to remote roles or to the new headquarters—you won’t see them again. That means you can—go however you like.”
I remember Becca mentioning she had a week to figure out her costume, but that was all that was said about it until Halloween. When I came home early, I found Becca in the bedroom.
As I walked in, I noticed clothing laid out on the bed and a FedEx box nearby. I took a closer look and asked, “This looks a lot like the stuff from the studio in Philadelphia.”
“It is,” Becca replied with a grin. “I might have called Michelle last week and invited her and Sebastian to the exhibition. I might have also mentioned the Halloween party.”
She smiled mischievously. “And I might have borrowed a few things from them for the party and the exhibit. I’ll make sure to return everything afterward.”
So, you’ve decided on Bettie? I asked, knowing the answer based on the items on the bed.
Becca nodded and smiled. “Uh-huh.” She then kissed me and said, “I need to get dolled up. I’ll tell you when I’m ready—I’ll need your help getting into a few things.”
With that, she gently pushed me out of the bedroom and closed the door behind her. I waited with anticipation, recalling the array of items on the bed, wondering what exactly she was going to wear.
I saw the door unlock and open slightly, a silent invitation for me to enter. As I slowly pushed the door open, I found Becca standing in the bedroom, wearing only black leather panties. They covered her but in an undeniably alluring way. Her face was impeccably done up, styled in the glamorous 1960s fashion, channeling a striking Bettie Page look.
Becca was holding a black steel-boned corset that looked like it was designed for waist training, with a distinct burlesque flair. She beckoned me over with a flirtatious gesture and turned around, explaining seductively how to lace it up.
I carefully and tightly laced the corset, appreciating how it cinched her waist perfectly, creating an exquisite hourglass shape. The design also left just enough of her breasts exposed, enhancing the seductive allure of the outfit. Once I had finished lacing it, I fastened the leather straps, buckling them in place, which added a touch of bondage to the ensemble.
She sat on the bed and lifted each leg, allowing me to help her into the sheer black Cuban-seamed stockings. As she stood for each one, I carefully adjusted the length to ensure they were perfectly straight. Once they were on, I attached them to the garters that were integrated into the corset. The stockings sat high, revealing truly little skin and making her legs look unbelievably long.
She pointed to the bed, then turned around and lifted her hair with both hands, tilting her head back. I took the black boned leather neck corset and gently wrapped it around Becca’s neck. She then seductively explained how to fasten it. The neck corset matched the body corset perfectly, resembling a mini version with its own leather straps and buckles.
“Do you want me to use the padlock?” I asked her.
“Of course,” she said seductively.